


good boy

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Catholic Guilt, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Senpai Notice Me, bipolar JJ, jjvic, jjvik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 15:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13343913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: JJ wants to be noticed in the worst way.





	good boy

**Author's Note:**

> beta’d by the amazing Annabeth❤️

Viktor Nikiforov is kissing the gold medal with his mouth slightly open. Just a little, but it is. JJ blinks. He always kissed his like he’s kissing his mother.

“I’m going to be there, next year.” His voice is too loud and his smile is about to crack. God in heaven — all those days breaking himself down, all those nights kneeling on his bruised knees, asking the Crucified Christ to put him back together, how much more will it take?️ He wonders if Viktor prays.

Viktor doesn’t say anything. He just stares out at the crowd. But he heard JJ. He’s _seen_ JJ. He knows JJ is coming for him.

JJ laughs and the cheers drown it out. He sinks with it. He disappears with it, and it becomes so hard to make sure people can still see his smile. It starts to hurt to keep it there.

Then Viktor says, “We shall see.”

++

He wasn’t figure skating. He was expressing himself. He told the audience exactly who he was with every move, wrote his name in the sky when he jumped, and Viktor stood there with them. JJ has a special message for Viktor when he ended his program with a Quad Salchow.

_I’m coming for you._

He didn’t need to hear his score announced at the kiss and cry. Viktor’s tight smile and narrowed eyes said it all. JJ was in first place.

Everyone held their breath as Viktor went on the ice. Then JJ forgot how to breathe when Viktor looked right at him. He still had that look in his eyes. The look that went right through JJ.

++

JJ is always alone at these banquets. His parents stand around him like he will fall if they’re not there to prop him up. Everyone stops and stares when he talks. They don’t say anything back to him.

It’s hard. It’s not like off-season, when he can get dulled out on his meds. This edge. It makes him feel like he can do anything.

Except when he can’t do anything.

The curtains and the carpet and the warm, warm air muffle this space and he feels every step sink in slow motion as he walks to the end of the banquet table for his one glass of Champagne. It feels like the end of a long line, and Viktor is standing there, looking at something - not JJ.

But he speaks. “See something you want?”

“Not unless it’s under your suit.” He nearly drops the flute. He clears his throat, instead. “The medal, I mean.”

He finally looks at JJ with eyes that have seen everything. “A medal? Is that all?” He laughs. It’s a soft huff. “I see something I want.”

Oh, he’s making fun of him. JJ wonders where his parents went and he wonders where his smile went and he tries to find it, but the corners of his mouth won’t go up. The room is really warm, too. “Yeah, JJ Style is irresistible.” While he’s playing along, he might as throw a wink in for good measure.

He is looking through JJ now. “You have passion on the ice.” There is an explosion in JJ’s chest and Viktor smiles as if he can hear it, too. “I like passion. I miss it.”

JJ blinks as Viktor walks away. And blinks again when his parents reappear. “Your mother is tired. Come up soon.” Papa’s mouth is tight.

He can’t! His gut hurts thinking about sitting up in his room alone. He’ll explode if he does. “I’ll be up soon.” He sees Viktor chatting with a group of Swiss skaters. Will JJ be forgiven if he thinks of Viktor as a god?

Viktor catches his eye for a moment.

“That’s fine, son. No more drinks.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Christophe is laughing and slapping Viktor’s back as everyone laughs at a joke Viktor said in English. It sounded like English. But it is like JJ can’t understand it anymore. JJ doesn’t know where to put his glass, or himself.

He should leave but he can’t. He can’t stop watching them, gathered in magic circle around Viktor. It would break their hearts if Viktor disappeared. They love him. No one loves JJ. Not like that.

++

“Otabek! Leo! Watch this!” JJ knew he could do it, as long as he made sure his jump was clean enough. As long as he didn’t tilt in the air. He had to keep his arms and legs tight. He had to keep his breath tight. Tight in his chest. Just like that make the world spin three times! _”It’s JJ Sty—!”_

Then his ankle turned beneath him and the ice took a bite right out of his pride. The tears stung.

“Jean-Jacques!”

Leo and Otabek pulled him up and tugged over to Coach Johnson. He wished they didn’t do that. They always did that and it always made him feel weak. He’s rather skate on two broken legs than ever let —

“How many times do I have to tell you? No triple jumps!” Coach Johnson had her hands on her hips and her frown on her face.

No! She had to let him put one in his program! She had to! “But how am I supposed to get better if I don’t try?” They let him go and backed away because no one wanted to hear him say it. But he was going to say it because he was an artist! This was a craft! He would fall a thousand times because that was what it meant to learn how to land. “I got to push myself. It’s JJ Style!”

“JJ, honey, how do I say this?” She bit her lip. “I don’t think you are getting anything out of this. I want you to go home.”

His ankle hurt. His chest hurt. His eyes - everything was blurry. “That’s okay,” he said. “It’s still two weeks til Rotterdam.” He even smiled. “I’m probably too much for these guys.” He nodded at Leo and Otabek. “They’re just skaters. I’m an artist.” He felt them let go of him and his chest hurt more.

He cut his hand when he put his guards on. He didn’t notice until he limped back to his dorm room to pack and saw all the blood he smeared on his suitcase.

Papa was going to be so disappointed.

He looked up at the poster Leo had pinned to the wall. Viktor Nikiforov was smiling back at JJ. He wondered if Viktor ever bled.

++

He waits for something that never happens. For another acknowledgement, maybe he thinks Viktor would waive him over. Maybe he thinks he will tell everyone how he finds JJ _passionate_ , and they will all listen to JJ talk about skating and artistry and how important it is to have your own style. And Viktor will nod. And he will tell them all he sees something special in JJ. And he will smile at him, again. And he would be his friend.

Except it never happens. No, JJ just stands there like he used to do when he used to watch Otabek and Leo getting ready to go out, wondering when they were going to invite him to go to those clubs they were always going to. They never did. He was too weird back then and he’s too weird now. His smile is going to break his face and he’s going to break this empty Champagne flute.

Maybe he should go back upstairs. The redheaded Russian skater smiles back at him then looks at the exit. Yeah, she thinks he should. ”I am so tired,” she says. Everyone in the room starts murmuring _tired_. Coach Johnson walks right past JJ. So does Leo. Neither says a word as he tells them goodnight.

And Viktor is watching. He puts his finger over his lips and he sees JJ’s lip tremble when he smiles. The room empties as Viktor studies JJ’s breaking smile. As it crumbles into nothing when there is no one left but a living god and and a king who wants to die.

Viktor doesn’t walk. He glides across the carpet. He leans in close and JJ knows he will be able to see all the cracks between his broken pieces. He tilts his head. “You want to come to my room?” He thinks JJ wants sex. JJ nods. Viktor could offer him a night of rock-paper-scissors and he would say yes. Viktor nods at the door. “Then come.”

He doesn’t touch him. Not as they silently walk down the marble hall. He doesn’t look at him. Not as they ride up the stainless steel trap-elevator. He doesn’t say a word as he slides his keycard and walks through the door.

The clock behind JJ hits him like a freight train when Viktor finally turns around. “What do you like?” Viktor takes one, two steps toward him.

“Like?” JJ finds himself backed himself up against the wallpaper. And Viktor braces his hand close to JJ’s head. He leans in and JJ thinks his face is going to melt. His skin - his whole body. He can’t breathe.

“So young...” Viktor’s eyes are all he can see. And they are looking right back at him. Through him. “Are you a virgin?”

He wants to laugh and he wants to wink and throw his hands up with a good double jay. He wants to. He can’t. Oh Holy Mother! He should never have used his pride to protect himself.

“Well?” The question is a low murmur. A soft, warm touch. He must’ve done this a million times before with other skaters and tonight he picked JJ.

He must feel sorry for him. “Of course not!” JJ winces. He’s too loud. He’s too much. He’s _crazy_ — and he can’t hide it.

Viktor touches JJ’s lapel. Tests the wool between his thumb and forefinger. “No one has ever touched you.” JJ feels something stinging in his eyes and it burns when it rolls down his face. “I’ve seen you on the ice, a boy with the passion of a man, aching to express it.” He bites his lip. “You want to be in my shoes so badly even I can taste it.”

JJ blinks as Viktor’s face gets closer. Whimpers as their noses touch. And, heaven forgive him, he is a breath away from his mouth. Then Viktor says, “And yet, with just the smallest hint of attention…” He nudges JJ’s nose with his. Angles his mouth against his. Presses JJ back up against the wall and —

JJ might fall through the wall, through the center of the earth, as Viktor’s tongue dips inside. JJ follows his mouth as Viktor pulls away. His hands— JJ didn’t realize he had Viktor’s face framed in his hands. Viktor smiles. “Show me your passion.”

++

“I’m an artist.” JJ clutched his rosary beads. He was going to say an entire rosary for every Our Father and Hail Mary Father Dubois assigned for his penance. “That’s what I tell myself when I am disobedient. But it’s wrong not to do what your elders tell you to do.”

He could see through the little holes, little black dots that didn’t make a picture. “You plainly see pride. You understand this is what separates us from God.”

“I skate to glorify myself.” He whispered this. It was worse than admitting he touched himself. Worse than admitting he envied normal people who didn’t have to spit their pills into a toilet every day and repel everyone around them, just so they could express themselves. “Father! I don’t want to be this way!”

Latin words followed like a shower of Holy Water. He felt the weight in his chest shift to the beads. He carried them out to the pews and picked off every ounce, one prayer at a time as he stared up at the battered Christ, who was hanging from His crucifix and dying because of JJ’s pride.

When he was finished he pressed the beads to his lips. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against them. “I don’t know how else to be.” He had too much pride. “I don’t know how.”

++

Viktor’s hands are braced against the wall. He hasn’t so much as touched JJ with them as he presses his body and mouth against him. “Take these off.” He steps back. He watches as JJ tears through clothes that don’t seem to want to come off but they have to and he tears what won’t give he kicks off the shoes and it all falls by some crazy wayside when he is standing there, naked as the day he was born for Viktor Nikiforov to inspect.

And he does. He steps back. He crooks his finger and JJ follows as Viktor walks him toward the serene winter white room. Viktor walks around him. JJ gasps when one finger touches the tattoo on his lower back. It slides and JJ feels it there - right there - and he can’t hide it. “You have a skater’s body. Lean, muscular,” his finger is on his hip, he leans and whispers into his ear. “Powerful.” He knows he shouldn’t crave this. “Full of desire.” But he does. Oh, he does.

Viktor is looking down. Looking down and he sees JJ’s dick. No one has ever seen him hard. “You want so much. Don’t you, Jean-Jacques?”

Tries to say something but the sounds won’t come out. He nods.

“Look at you. You tremble with anticipation.” The rough wool scratches JJ’s skin when Viktor presses himself against JJ’s back. “All that aching.” His hands slide over JJ’s chest. Over his abdominals. And then - almost - “You ache, so beautifully.”

The last little piece of JJ falls and it breaks and he sobs and he arches his back and suddenly there is this warmth between his legs. It’s Viktor. He’s touching JJ. Cupping his balls and it’s so good. So good. “Yes — “ Viktor’s voice is a hiss and his mouth is pressed against his ear and his hands, they’re moving and stroking him. “You are beautiful. You want to hear it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” JJ can’t help thrusting into his hand.

Viktor pushes him to the floor. Stands in front of him. “Touch yourself.” His eyes glitter and he smiles and he _likes what he sees_ and JJ wants him to keep liking it. He starts jerking himself off right away. “So obedient!”

Obedient? JJ can’t stop the sob.

“Show me your passion, beautiful.” Viktor’s fingers touch JJ’s jaw. Then he unbuckles his belt. Unzips his fly. JJ licks his lips when he sees black silk boxers and he doesn’t think - he can’t think - he just moves because he needs to hear more. He presses his face against Viktor’s crotch and inhales. “Yes! Just like that.”

He called him _beautiful_.

JJ gasps when Viktor pulls down the boxers. “I’ve never seen - “ not someone else, hard. Not for real. He forgets to keep jerking off and he reaches up to touch.

“So eager.” Viktor combs JJ’s hair back. “Open your mouth.” He does. “Your tongue?” JJ sticks it out. And then Viktor puts his dick on it. Slides the tip across it. “Close your mouth. Keep touching yourself.” Viktor cups the back of his head and JJ does what he is told. “Oh, you are such a good, good boy!”

JJ moans and Viktor guides him with his hands and thrusts slowly into his mouth. It tastes like piss and skin and it feels so good because Viktor thinks he is beautiful. Viktor thinks he is strong. Thinks he is passionate. _Viktor thinks he is a good boy_.

JJ doesn’t care if his jaw is beginning to ache and he doesn’t care if he has to say a thousand rosaries for this, he just wants Viktor to keep watching him. He pushes his mouth down as far as he can. He gags and he pulls back up, then gags himself again, and again, and again. He knows it is sacrilege to worship another god, but he can’t help it.

“That’s right. Your desire makes you beautiful. Show me.” Viktor is gritting his teeth. He’s pulling away. “Show me! Oh, so good! You are so good!” He’s holding JJ by the hair and he’s coming all over JJ’s face, all over his body. Viktor swipes his thumb over the come dripping off JJ’s cheek, then marks his forehead with a cross. “My sweet, beautiful boy.”

JJ explodes.

++

“Vodka?”

He shakes his head.

“I’m having vodka.” Viktor is dressed again, and JJ is, well, he’s wearing his pants. Viktor opens both of the tiny bottles he pulled from the hotel minifridge and JJ has never seen anyone drink so quickly. One then the other are downed in mere moments. “So, how was your first time.”

JJ scratches the back of his neck. He doesn’t know what to say. _Good?_ That’s hardly the word. Did he really get off on being called all those things? Was praise what he wanted from Viktor? “I liked it.”

“Aw! You’re cute when you blush. Why can’t you be this cute all the time?”

JJ feels his stomach drop. He doesn’t know how - he isn’t really like that. He’s going to say something stupid. Something like, _really?_ Or worse, he’s going to beg for more.

He knows that can’t happen. That this, that this shouldn’t have happened. He kisses the cross around his neck as he gets up. “Well, I better go -“

Viktor catches his hand. “Jean-Jacques?”

JJ closes his eyes. “Will you forget about me?”

“How could I?” His warm hand combs through JJ’s hair. “My good boy.” JJ feels something warm and soft and it’s inside his chest. If he breathes it might leave. So he holds it all in and imagines that hand touching him right before he goes on the ice, guiding him. He would learn how to be more than than just king. Viktor would teach him how to be a god.


End file.
